


Darkness In Me

by RockSaltandCherryPie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, Hurt, M/M, Mark of Cain, No Sex, Quickies, Roughness, Toppy!Dean, Violence, Wincest - Freeform, dubcon, first time?ish, i threw up on the page, messy handjobs, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 16:36:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1476598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockSaltandCherryPie/pseuds/RockSaltandCherryPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's losing it<br/>(Mark of Cain related)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darkness In Me

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what happened here. I know this would never happen. I just really want them to make up already I'm going a little crazy.
> 
> Takes place during 9x18 "Meta Fiction" so spoilers for 9x18.
> 
> Dubconny

_I've been inside your brother's body, Dean._

Dean gripped the edges of the rusted out sink in the old factory, hands shaking.

_He would not trade his life for yours._

Dean's muscles pulsed with an uncontrollable urge, his skin on fire. He tried but failed numerous times to steady his breathing. He clutched his right arm, pressing his thumb into the searing red mark, feeling it throb repeatedly with his pumping heart.

_Did he tell you that he's always felt that way?_

He felt a surge in his stomach, bile threatening to come up against his will. His blood pounded relentlessly in his ears.

_He thinks you are just a scared little boy who's afraid to be on his own._

He broke through the door and started tearing the angel apart, his fist colliding with his face over and over. Dean vaguely heard his grunts and sputtering coughs, but still he kept coming at him, watching more and more blood shroud his features. Dean lifted him up by the collar of his jacket, bringing his torn up face to his own, and spat out "you don't know _anything._ "

The son of a bitch actually had the gall to form a weak mocking grin, the red between his teeth bubbling and smearing.

Dean spun him and hurled him on the ground. Gadreel smashed into one of the pillars with a loud _crash_. He made a feeble attempt to gather himself, to get up, but Dean came towards him again.

"Don't you fucking get up you son of a bitch!"

Gadreel shuffled backwards on his heels and elbows, towards the back wall. Dean lifted him by the jacket again and slammed his fist to his ruined face once, twice, three more times until Gadreel fell completely limp in his hold.

Dean released him and Gadreel crumpled to the ground like a rag doll.

Dean slid down the wall and collapsed against it, his limbs shaking with remnants of adrenaline. He glanced at his throbbing knuckles which were painted with Gadreel's blood and swallowed down the horrible taste in his mouth.

He felt this inexplicable darkness within him that he couldn't quite explain. All he knew was that he had started to feel different as soon as Cain gave him his mark. It was like he was just watching his own life play out around him through some sort of haze. And Sam... He had done so much wrong by his little brother, it was beyond repair... Sammy would never forgive him for all the mistakes he made, and that hurt him much more than the stupid mark that was burning hot on his flesh.

He vaguely heard Sam calling his name. He blinked his heavy eyes open and then saw Sam coming towards him.

"Dean!"

"Sammy..."

"Dean, are you okay?" Sam crouched by his side and put his hand gently on his shoulder.

"Sammy... he... he wanted to die... I was gonna kill him..." Dean's head sloppily rolled around on his neck, from Gadreel then back to Sam.

Sam looked over at Gadreel's broken face and limp body.

"He was saying things... He was..."

"It's okay, Dean. Come on, let's get you outta here. The car's outside, okay?" Sam's hand was at his neck now, firm palm supporting his pliant head.

"No. No. Sammy..." Dean grabbed on to his brother's shirt, pulling him in. He felt his throat thickening and he kept trying to swallow down the feeling of nausea he was experiencing. He felt the corners of his eyes leaking looking at Sammy... His little brother... His...

_He's always felt that way..._

"You're all I have..." Dean heard himself sob out.

"Dean, what..."

"Please... Sammy... I'm sorry..." Dean's voice was so shaky it was barely comprehendible. He couldn't hold anything back. Seeing Sammy here, now... Everything was spilling out and it was pathetic and ugly but Sam's eyes were beginning to water too.

"Dean..."

"I'm sorry... So sorry..." Dean pulled him in closer, red smearing all over Sam's coat. Dean couldn't stop shaking. One of his hands went up to caress Sam's hand that was at his neck, rubbing it and gripping it tight.

"You're all I have..." Dean repeated.

"Okay, Dean..." Sam whispered when their foreheads pressed to each other. "Okay."

 

xxx

 

They were back at the bunker and Sam was sitting at one of the desks, under the only light that was still on because it was nearly one in the morning and he was still up. He had been looking into the Letters' archive for any information on prophets and why another hadn't risen up yet.

Sam rubbed at his temples, then heard a creak in the floor from behind him. A pair of hands slid up his shoulders and gently squeezed. At first Sam perked up, turning his head, but then his brother's hands caressed his muscles, thumbs dragging along his shoulder blades, and he couldn't help but shut his eyes. Dean's hands slid up to his neck, fingers curling around gently, and Sam tilted it to one side, a shiver running up and down his spine. He kind of wanted to ask Dean if he was okay but he'd been asking him that a lot lately and it was pretty clear that he wasn't.

Dean's hands slid higher, to the nape of his neck and in his hair in slow, scratching motions.

If Sam's nerves were asleep before they were wide awake now, his scalp tingling and making him all lightheaded. _Okay, that felt nice... But what..._

Sam's eyes stayed shut, even as Dean leaned down close to his neck and just breathed, humid and hot against his skin. Sam clutched the armrests and stiffened. _What..._ Dean's mouth opened on a soft kiss he pressed just at his pulse point. Sam turned at that, pulled away a little to search Dean's face. Sam had never seen his brother's eyes so dark. He just stared at Sam, his red lips quivering, his pupils blown wide. Sam saw the desperation, the pain, behind his rugged features, and he knew then that something was broken in him. He got out of the chair to face him, maybe to ask him to talk, but Dean only closed in on him and cupped his face in his hands. Sam let their heads fall together and Dean breathed heavy against his mouth. Sam held on to Dean's arms as he felt himself being pushed against the table. He let out a small grunt, and Dean's hands slid down his sides, held on to his hips.

"Dean—Dean—" Sam breathed, falling over the table as Dean pressed into him more. Crinkled papers slid out from under his hands, and the folder he had been scouring through plummeted to the floor.

Dean's mouth hovered over his, and Sam's heart was pounding like crazy now. Dean stilled, looking down at Sam, hands on either side of him. Sam could see him trembling. Dean blinked, his bloodshot eyes straining and wet. Sam pushed up, closing the few inches between them and pressed his mouth to Dean's.

Dean opened his mouth and sucked on Sam's lip, their teeth nicking each other. Dean pulled back, his chin glistening. He pushed Sam's shirt up, licking a stripe up his navel and then kissed his way to his chest.

Sam squirmed under him, clutching on to Dean's wandering hands. "Dean—"

Dean licked over his left nipple and Sam just watched, his breathing coming quicker than ever and Dean's name sounding more and more like a whine. He felt his brother's hot tongue move to his other nipple, licking over it and kissing it with his full, wet lips.

_Dean..._

And the worst part was he knew why Dean was doing this, too. Yet he felt helpless.

Dean mouthed over the bulge in Sam's jeans, and Sam jerked. He sunk his teeth into the denim and Sam felt his whole body surge, his cock jumping a little underneath Dean's mouth.

"Dean," he managed to let out assertively. He cupped Dean's head in his hands, preventing him from going any further. "Dean. I love you." It was a little shaky and sounded more like a desperate plea to bring his brother's sanity back than anything else, but he knew Dean needed that assurance more than anything in the world right now. Sam nodded a little reassuringly, his eyes watering. He wanted to tell him he didn't have to do this.

Dean came up to his mouth again but said nothing. Just kissed him deep and desperate, holding on to his hip and spreading his thigh a little.

Something stirred in Sam's stomach, his body shaking, though he wasn't sure if it was with fear or arousal. Maybe both.

"Sammy... Need you..." Dean murmured, catching Sam's lips in between his words.

"I know, Dean, I—" Dean palmed Sam's cock firmly through his pants and Sam groaned. "Oh god, Dean."

Dean snaked his hand down the front of Sam's pants, his hand cupping and massaging his hard cock. Sam gasped and held on to Dean, his hips bucking up a little at the contact. His body was so sensitive right now it was like everything almost hurt.

"Love you so much, Sammy... I need..."

Sam gasped and whined, little sounds that Dean appeared to just be drinking in. Dean jacked him quick and rough, not even bothering to get his pants out of the way, and Sam was already right there on the edge. His hard cock was straining and leaking, pre-come slipping down the shaft and getting all over Dean's hand.

"Want you to come for me, Sammy..." Dean sucked on his neck and Sam threw his head back, his balls tightening up.

"Come for me..." Dean whispered in his ear, and then he was giving it all up, his body convulsing, completely at the mercy of his brother's relentless hand. His cock shot out spurt after spurt of sticky white come, most of it caught by Dean's fingers but some of it filling up in his boxers and stretching up to dapple the crevices of his stomach. Dean worked him through it hard, squeezing and thumbing every last drop out of him until it was painful.

"Ah—" Sam cried when it was too much, and Dean slid his sodden hand all the way up Sam's exposed front and then tasted one of his own fingers. Sam could barely form a coherent thought. He couldn't even catch his breath.

Slowly, Dean straightened and pushed himself off of Sam, eyes never leaving him but progressively appearing more and more disgusted with himself. His hands shook and he actually looked at them and then backed away.

Sam heard his feet bolt away and then a door slam.

He still couldn't quite get his brain to work.

He heard a few _clangs_ coming from Dean's room and the sound of water being turned on and off. Another loud _thump._

 

It was only when Sam was wiping his stomach dry with a towel that Dean came back out and stood facing him across the room.

"Sammy, I..." Dean started, his voice low and trembling. "I'm sorry..."

Sam swallowed. "It's okay..."

"No, it's not. I mean I don't even know what I was thinking." He held his arm, squeezing right at the crease of his forearm.

As Sam came closer, he saw Dean's eyes watering.

Dean lifted his right hand and watched it like it didn't belong to him, and Sam noticed it shaking uncontrollably.

"Sammy, I don't know what's wrong with me..."

Sam's heart dropped in his chest. He held Dean's hand firmly in his own to stop it from shaking. "Hey—okay. Hey. We're gonna figure this out, okay?"

He had never seen Dean like this before. He looked like he was suffering. Terrified. Of himself. And Sam really didn't know what to do except let him know he was there. There wasn't exactly a Mark of Cain handbook they could look at.

Sam really hoped Dean made the right decision in taking on this burden.


End file.
